


Vigil

by there_is_a_bluebird



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Folgers-Inspired, Gen, Loss, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Sibling Incest, Spoilers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:18:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/there_is_a_bluebird/pseuds/there_is_a_bluebird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>THIS WAS MEANT TO BE A JOKE OH GOD </p><p>((Thor: The Dark World spoilers within!))</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vigil

Jane Foster was screaming.

Mjölnir flew to him in an instant, and Jane flung herself into him, folding her hands over her face and burying herself in his chest. Thor drew her close and leapt to his feet, casting around for the threat-

“Darcy!” Jane shrieked, slightly muffled. She lifted her face from Thor’s chest and yelled again over his shoulder – “DARCY! IT’S THAT TIME AGAIN!”  
  
She was _laughing._

Mjölnir was still in Thor’s hand as Darcy raced into the room, already screaming in excitement, and flung herself bodily over the back of the sofa. Jane collapsed next to her and they both shuddered in silent laughter, clutching hands together, gasping. “The best part of waking up,” they chanted, “-is _Folgers in your cup!”_

Thor was utterly perplexed.

“It’s officially Christmas,” Darcy gushed when she could speak again, Jane still creased with laughter besides her.

“There is no danger?” Thor checked.

The girls exchanged that _look_ between them again. “No danger,” Jane confirmed, reaching forward and tugging on his arm, encouraging him to sit down next to her again. “Just…Folgers,” she grinned broadly.

Seeing his confusion, she grabbed the remote and rewound the television. “Just watch.”  
  
Darcy settled herself more comfortably in her seat and leaned forward as Jane pressed play.

A young man appeared on the screen and rang the doorbell of a snowy house. It was the wrong house. No, it wasn’t – the woman who had answered the door was his sister. He had just been away for some time. Thor frowned as the siblings embraced. The man admired the smell of the coffee, which he assumed was what had woken the – parents? – upstairs…and then…the man gave his sister a gift. She removed the bow and stuck it on him. The parents came downstairs and while the mother hugged her son, a sing-song voice told them that the best part of waking up was Folgers.

Thor wasn’t entirely sure what the advert had to do with coffee, but he was also lost as to why the girls beside him were giggling.

“Every year, _every year,_ I hope they kiss,” Darcy was saying, “…and then I REMEMBER!”  
  
Jane smoothed her hand down his arm and smiled at him, and then laughed at his obvious confusion. “Come on! You didn’t think that was totally skeezy?”  
  
“Skeezy?”  
  
“They’re brother and sister!”  
  
Thor was absolutely baffled. Apparently, Jane and Darcy found this equally perplexing in turn.

“You know…incest?!”  
  
Thor shook his head. “Incest is legal among the Vanir. We Asgardians do not practice it widely, but it occurs, rarely.” He nodded at the television screen. “This did not seem particularly explicit to me.”  
  
Jane and Darcy were gaping at him. “No, wait. Hold on. You can’t just say that incest is okay, Thor! It greatly increases the risk of all kinds of genetic disorders, disability, and it’s…it’s…”  
  
“Gross,” Darcy supplied helpfully from the sidelines.

“...it indicates an unhealthy mental state,” Jane finished carefully. “I mean…there are clear-cut family roles within society. Who grows up thinking that their brother is the centre of their world?! It’s unhealthy!”

Thor placed Mjölnir down the floor by his feet, carefully. “Genetic?” He asked finally.

Jane frowned. “Yeah, like, traits that run in families. You know, if your Mom has blonde hair and your Dad has blond hair, you’re probably going to end up with it as well. I-”

She stopped, and her cheeks coloured a little. “It might be totally different for you, of course. I…forget, sometimes.”  
  
Thor mulled it over for a moment. “I think so,” he decided. “I have heard tell that my father’s hair was dark and wild when he was young. And powerful though the all-father is, neither he nor my mother have my…aptitude with the skies.”  
  
Jane’s eyes lit up. “It’s not really my area, but this could be a great opportunity! I mean, we hardly know anything about you guys…if you were willing to let us run a few tests sometime, I have a geneticist friend who would know where to start-”

Thor nodded as she spoke and the moment passed. Yet his mind dwelled, as they ate together that evening, and while Jane was in the shower, and – he was briefly distracted when she came out of the shower, but afterwards, lying in the dark, he couldn’t help but think what strange customs mortals had. He had not perceived the advert to be odd at all. The business with the bow Jane had explained to him only the other day when she had bought a packet of six. Shiny useless paper things used for ornamentation on their Holy Day. Was it the act of transferring the bow that had upset the mortals so much? Or was it the lingering glances? Surely it was not the simple embrace?

Jane Foster was beautiful when she slept. One small hand was under the pillow, and there was the smallest of creases between her eyebrows as she frowned a little in her sleep. Thor watched her a little, remembering the softness of her lips and the way she pushed her hair out of her eyes. Jane had told him it was only two weeks until Christmas and if he wasn’t here with her then, he wasn’t getting his present. She smacked her lips together in her sleep, and he smiled.

He left her a note.

It was chilly on Midgard. Not cold, not for him, but he enjoyed the crispness of the night air and the clearness of the sky. He walked aimlessly, only trying to put a little distance between Jane and himself so he would not wake her when he returned to Asgard. He was sure Heimdall would be keeping watch for him. Nodding to the winking stars when he was ready, the Bifrost beamed down over him in a blaze of white light and warmth.

Thor landed smoothly and did his best not to look at Heimdall. The golden eyes saw everything, and Thor wasn’t feeling particularly open this evening. He muttered his thanks and turned on his heel, striding out down the bridge towards the palace. The sky glittered, clear blue velvet studded with stars, and the Bifrost was shimmering gently underfoot. Thor slowed down and came to a halt, staring off to his left at the cliffs, trying to determine exactly where…ah, he’d gone a little too far. Re-tracing his steps, he kept an eye out for the hidden crevice Loki had piloted them through that day. It was from this part of the bridge they had interred his body. Thor’s choice. He wanted to send Loki’s pyre out on its own secret path.

Thor had been the one to shoot the arrow. He had no great skill for archery, but he’d insisted.

Loki – Loki’s body – had gone up in fantastic flames, some fifteen foot high, sparking green and red. Thor wondered idly if there had been some kind of residual magic in his brother, some last spark of beauty. He’d never understood magic, not really. He’d never asked Loki, and now he’d never have the chance.

After everything…after _everything_ his brother had done…

That last quest they’d shared, those wild few moments of adrenaline and adventure; it had been difficult not to remember how they’d been as boys, not to fall back into the pattern of trusting Loki unthinkingly. He didn’t trust Loki. But he still loved him. He couldn’t imagine not loving Loki. It was like trying to stop your own heart from beating with sheer force of will, and then to carry on walking around afterwards.

Which wasn’t too far from what Thor felt, really.

He was happy that they had prevailed, he knew that. He knew that as he knew the clouds had come from Ymir’s brains, and that there was a place in Midgard called Australia. It was a distant kind of knowledge, for things long ago and far away. They’d won, and that was a good thing. But they’d lost so much – Mother, Loki, endless Asgardians who had rushed to their defense that he knew not the names of, and scores of ones that he did. Too many. Father’s praise, though rare, was little comfort, unable to span the enormity of the wound. They had not spoken since.

Thor turned his gift over in his hands, half-hoping that Loki was out there somewhere, laughing down his sleeve that his big brother had fallen for his illusions yet again. It was the kind of empty, hollow hope that is the last defence of a bitter truth. He knew – he _knew_ that Loki was gone. It was only his foolish heart that hurt him so. If Mother was here…Frigga had known the future, all of the futures, and spoke of it to no-one. Yet he was sure if he could hold her hand one last time and look at her, he would see in her eyes if her son had lived or died…

He sighed, heavily, without meaning to. His melancholy was like a great weight in his bones, yet he felt to guilty to assuage himself of grief whilst around Jane, whose home had after all been attacked by his brother. In the grip of madness, Thor reasoned with himself, but it was a tired argument. He had long since given up trying to decipher Loki’s true loyalties. The boy who had been his brother turned blue and grew away every passing day. Thor had not visited him once in the cells. He…regretted that decision, now.

The stars had shifted in the sky by the time Thor looked up again, and he knew it was time to return to Midgard. Time was tricky between realms, and he had dwindled here longer than he had intended. He rose to his feet and threw up the golden apple in his hand, catching it deftly.

“I brought you something, brother,” Thor told the sea and the stars.

He struggled to peel the little paper sticker off the bow, fumbling for a minute, but finally managed to stick it firmly to the apple. It was a bright, garish, fuschia thing the size of his fist. Loki would have hated it.

Smiling a little, Thor let the apple fall out of his fingers and into the water. The bow bobbed above the surface, gleaming in the moonlight as the apple was carried out on the tide.

He didn’t want to say it.

“Return to me,” he murmured, so quietly he wasn’t sure if he’d said it aloud at all or if it was just his heart crying out. “Come back. That will be your gift to me.”

They’d always walked a fine line together, although on opposite sides. Loki was quiet, _too_ quiet, and Thor had been too loud. Loki was too clever, Thor too obtuse. Loki was cold, aloof, and Thor too volatile. They were a pair…If the mortals mistook that love for perversion…

_Then they’d be right, wouldn’t they brother?_

Loki’s voice, in his head, Loki’s cruel tongue was always the one who taunted him for his…indiscretion. Yet now, his voice was painfully welcome, even if the words were mockery…

_Was I not preying on your mind, brother, not a moon ago while you rutted with Jane Foster? Even now…even now, my image still stirs you more than it sickens you…_

Thor watched the apple until it was out of sight, and he knew he was sick. Guilt and loss weighed heavy on his footfalls as he returned to Heimdall, and requested without a word to leave again. The god laid a large hand on his shoulder and stared intently at him, squeezing softly, before he nodded.

Thor returned to Midgard on the day before Christmas Eve and whirled Jane around in his arms, kissed her soundly, slept besides her. And from Asgard, Heimdell watched. And behind Heimdall, another watched also. 

**Author's Note:**

> The Golden Apple Thor throws into the water is one of Iðunn's. Alledgedly, they are the source of the Gods immortality and extremely precious and I liked the idea that Thor would offer one up in the hope Loki would return to him. Thanks to luci-moosey on tumblr for the original prompt, and for gabrielsaunteredvaguelydownwards for pointing me to it! <3


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